


Beloved of The Trickster

by rampantmuses



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-05
Updated: 2013-02-21
Packaged: 2017-11-28 06:33:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/671393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rampantmuses/pseuds/rampantmuses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The destruction of the Bifrost brings about great loss. For Astrid, healer to the Asgardian Court, the loss of Loki, the God of Mischief, is a devastating loss indeed. Yet, even in the wake of his departure, the Trickster has left a special gift just for her...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Asgard: Home of the Warrior Gods**

The Observatory had been destroyed, the Rainbow Bridge Bifrost severed; and with that loss, the loss of his mischievous brother, Loki.

“ _There had been no choice but to destroy i_ t,” Thor thought as he stood on the palace balcony overlooking the gleaming city of Asgard. Had he not used Mjolnir to destroy the bridge, Loki’s bid to destroy Jotunheim by the use of the opened Observatory portal and his powers would have prevailed.

Loki.

His heavy heart ached with the loss of his dear brother. Yes, Loki was adopted and yes, he had been a stolen child of The Asgardian’s long ago war with the Frost Giants of Jotunheim. Yet, his brother’s true lineage did not make him grieve less. The All-father had found him and brought him to Asgard; Loki was still a prince of Asgard, an Odinson. Now his brother was gone! Cast adrift about the nine realms never knowing where he would land. How could he even ride into another battle without his brother by his side?

His eyes scanned out to the shimmering bridge, knowing the exact point where it abruptly stopped. He knew Heimdall, the omniscient and omnipresent eye of the Asgardians was standing there, keeping an ever watchful eye on the other realms. Plans were being made to rebuild what had been destroyed, and while that assuaged him a little, it still didn’t truly soothe his grief and loneliness. He wanted to see Jane! She would bring him the comfort that he longed for, and yet she too was lost to him for now.

Bowing his head, Thor cursed. If only he could change everything.  
\---  
The din of the banquet hall was overwhelmingly loud to her. Seated beside Lady Sif and the Warriors Three, Astrid picked at the sumptuous meal that had been laid out for the whole of the Asgardian court. Volstagg ate with hearty zeal, acting as if he hadn’t seen food in days, regaling those around him of the mighty battle that he, Fandral, Hogun, Thor, and Lady Sif had engaged in on the Midgardian realm and emerged triumphant. To her right, Fandral the handsomest of the Warrior’s Three, preened at the nearby group of Asgardian maids and chimed in on Volstagg’s story.

“Oh come now, Volstagg! You were mightily outmatched! That Destroyer knocked you flat on your arse before you could even blink!”

Gales of laughed rang about her; even Hogun the Grim, who never smiled, was managing a small smile or laugh. The hall was filled with such joy and laughter, yet none of it surrounded or filled her. Her heart continued its slow shattering as the party continued on around her.

Loki was gone, and she was dying inside. She knew he wasn’t dead; she would definitely know if he was dead. She would have felt something, some small part of her die if he had. The fact that she couldn’t reach him made the loss all the more devastating.

She’d never understood why the Asgardians treated the trickster God like a second class citizen. In some ways, the way he was treated reminded her of the way some of the Asgardian elite treated her. Astrid felt tears sting her eyes as the good natured banter and laughter escalated. She drew in a quivering breath, doing her best to keep the tears at bay.

Sif turned her kind hazel eyes, filled with joy of the triumph of battle toward her dear friend. Her expression softened when she looked on Astrid. She’d known for quite some time of the Healer’s love and admiration for the fallen God, Loki; she even knew that Loki had admired Astrid for her healing powers and her beauty through bits of conversation she’d heard Loki exchange with Thor. “ _If only Loki hadn’t been so caught up with his wounded pride and jealousy of his brother, he’d be celebrating with us_.” Sif thought ruefully as Astrid rose up from the table, to be unfortunately caught about the waist by Fandral, the Dashing. The handsome blond warrior, made all the more bold by good wine, plunked Astrid down across his lap, giving her a gentle squeeze and kiss on the cheek.

“Come, lovely Astrid! Do not leave our company so quick! The evening is young and filled with the promise of romance.” He proclaimed causing the gaggle of maids he’d been flirting with earlier to glare reproachfully at Astrid. Sif rolled her eyes and made her move to free Astrid from Fandral yet found when she began to make her move that she didn’t need to. For Astrid, her pale face devoid of emotion, gave just a flick of her wrist. Within seconds snakes slithered from Fandral’s goblet of wine, forcing him to release Astrid as he, along with those closest to him, moved away. Then, just as calmly, Astrid waved her hand, causing the serpents to disappear in an ethereal cloud of smoke.

“Consider that my response to your quest to add me to your scroll of the many maids you have wooed, Fandral.” She answered softly, turning on her heel, sweeping out of the hall, leaving stunned silence in her wake. Sif smiled; the trickster had taught Astrid a trick. No clearer message could be given. Astrid’s heart would always belong to Loki.  
\----  
Thor’s brow furrowed as quiet footsteps echoed in the relative stillness of the evening and interrupted his brooding. He turned to see the flaming hair and pale beauty of Lady Astrid, the Healer to the Asgardian Gods and Goddesses, who seemed to be in an unnatural hurry to leave the overflowing banquet hall.

“Fair Lady Astrid, what brings you away from the celebration on such an evening? Is there not drunken revelry enough to make great use of your talents?” Thor called with a smile that failed to reach his eyes completely. His smile of bravado faltered when he gazed on her face. Her clear blue eyes brimmed with tears; two silver tinged tears audaciously streaked over her rosy cheeks as she headed directly for him.

“Astrid?”

“Why, Thor?” She asked quietly, her words not borne of anger, but of a deep well of anguish that would not be easily assuaged. He offered her his arms and she threw herself against him, her first sob tearing from her throat. He drew her tighter, his arms surrounding her with the comfort that he could give.

“He gave me no choice, Astrid. He gave Father no choice. If I could I would have pulled him back onto the bridge. He let go before either Father or I had a chance.” Thor answered his voice thick with tears and raw grief. He held her shuddering body, felt each hiccuping sob as she wept helplessly against his chest, feeling worse than the moment he watched Loki release his hold on Gungnir to fall away from Asgard.

Thor pressed his cheek against her silky hair, wishing to Valhalla that their shared grief would cease. Yet, he knew that there would be no simple remedy for their pain. While they remained in the golden city of Asgard, the ones they loved traversed the world with no way of knowing when or if they would see the other again. He held her close, his fingers lightly curving around the back of her neck. He tilted her head up and looked into her tear stained eyes. One thing he had learned during his banishment is that not all women looked like Asgardian women did when they cried. Astrid, with her silvery tears spilling down her face, rivaled his beloved Jane with her beauty. Yet, he knew to whom Astrid’s heart belonged, as he knew to whom his heart belonged. He brushed away her tears, pressing a brotherly kiss to her forehead.

“Take your leave, fair Astrid. Grieve for my brother as I do. Any and all healing can wait until you have healed.” He commanded quietly, kissing the crown of her flaming red hair as he bade her good night.

“Thank you, Your Majesty. Give my highest regard to your mother and The All-father.” She murmured gratefully, clasped his hand in hers and with a dip of her head pressed a kiss against the back of his. He smiled as he watched her leave, wanting for her to receive some measure of comfort on this night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The destruction of the Bifrost brings about great loss. For Astrid, healer to the Asgardian Court, the loss of Loki, the God of Mischief, is a devastating loss indeed. Yet, even in the wake of his departure, the Trickster has left a special gift just for her...

She knew she shouldn’t be there.

       Astrid quietly slipped into Loki’s chamber, shutting and bolting the door behind her as she moved in the darkness. With a flick of her fingertips, she set the torchieres at the mantle side to a dim glow as she walked. The room was large and spacious with gilded walls and floors of dark marble that reflected the soft glow of the lamps. The crowning glory was his bed. Set upon a dark marble dais, the platform seemed to float on air.  The wall behind boasted the familiar rune carvings that glittered in the floor of the throne room.  The linens were purest white, the coverlet gold. The bed offered comfort; a place for deep slumber. She was surprised that she didn’t throw herself upon his bed, curl up in the fabric that still bore his scent and weep until she slept.

       She couldn’t bring herself do such a thing, not now.

       Turning from the bed, she took brisk steps, moving to the wardrobe to retrieve one of the many long capes of royal, verdant green. She clutched the garment to her breast, tears stinging her eyes as she rubbed the soft material against her cheek. Even now she could smell him, the scent of his skin, the finely milled soap he favored when he bathed. She crumpled to the floor and wept, her tears staining his cape. How could he have done this? How could he have let go before she’d even had the chance to tell him all that was in her heart?

       _“You weep for me, Astrid?”_

       Astrid yelped and wrapped herself protectively in his cape; no, it couldn’t be him. It was just her overwrought mind playing tricks on her.

       _“Yes, pretty Astrid, it is me. It’s not a trick of your mind. Follow my voice.”_

Only Loki had ever called her “pretty Astrid”. It was what he always called her when he wanted to mess about in the stores of herbs, elixirs, and potions that she kept well stocked. This was no joke. She frowned as she came to her feet, following the sound of the voice she’d never thought she’d hear again. On the other side of his wardrobe stood his bathing room, the gilded walls gleaming in the now brighter light of the lamps.  Her brow furrowed, wondering where his voice had come from until she turned her gaze upon the bathing pool. Before she could stop herself, she ran to the pool’s edge and knelt, her hands resting gently on the lip of the pool as she peered at the surface of the placid waters.

       It was Loki, her Loki!

       “Loki...” She whispered, unable to believe what she saw. He stood at his full height, his horned helm under his right arm, a slight smile curving his lips as he looked at her, seemingly from within the depths of the pool.

       _“Quiet, my sweet girl, this must remain secret. Once the spell is complete, I will disappear and this pool will not bear my likeness again, is that clear?”_

“Yes, your command is clear... Loki?”

       ” _Yes, fair Astrid?”_

       “What is the duration of this spell, my lord?” She asked quietly, not wanting to believe he was even there in spell form. He gave her a sly smile, the smile that never failed to set her heart rate into triplicate. Suddenly, his physical likeness burst forth from under the water’s surface. Astrid scrambled away from the pool, landing ungracefully on her bottom, her eyes wide as he rose up. He looked as if he had just walked into the banquet hall or into her healing chambers.

       “Only for this one Asgardian night, my sweet, come to me.” He commanded, his pale hand beckoning her to come to him. Without hesitation, she leapt from the floor and into his arms. Chuckling, he held her close, his lips brushing her temple as she wept. She clung to him, not wanting to let him go, yet knew that the hourglass was against them. Her hands cupped his face, bringing his gentle lips down to meet hers. He smiled, armed with the knowledge that this maiden’s body hungered for his. In truth, his body hungered for hers in return.

       “Come to my bed tonight, Astrid. Lie with me.” He whispered against her lips, tilting his hips at just the right angle to press his arousal against her. She gasped as his body moved against hers. In all her years as healer to the court of Asgard she had never been so boldly asked to a man’s bed. Most men of the court used flowery words and little trinkets. Others resorted to cornering ladies in shadowy alcoves or outright drunken groping when it came to fulfilling their desires. Loki had chosen to remain restrained and polite on his quest. She knew she shouldn’t yield; she was a maiden after all, and the purity of a lady was held in highest esteem when it came to marriage. Yet, she knew her body would not resist the call of his; a throbbing pleasure settled between her thighs at his plain spoken request. Drawing away, she took his hand in hers and led him from the bath, through his closet to his bed chamber.

       “The cape looks lovely, darling. I dare say it looks exquisite. However, I think it would be much better if you lost it, along with your gown.” He mused, smiling broadly as he noted the way she’d twined the green fabric around her body. Astrid blushed as with a flick of his fingertips, the cape and her gown lie gently draped over a nearby stool, leaving her only in a chemise of filmy gold-tinged sky blue chiffon. His breath caught as he took in her state of dishabille. The chemise was only a single layer of fabric that covered from her delicate breast to mid-thigh. Her nipples thrust up against the fine fabric, bidding him to lick and suckle them. The image alone was enough to have his pulse pounding in his ears. Loki squeezed his eyes shut, gathering his bearings before he looked on her again. 

       Before he could think of it, a snap of her fingers had him completely undressed, his clothing lying in a neat pile atop hers.

       “Two can play at this, Mischievous One.” She replied tartly, stifling a cry as he closed the distance between them, gathering her up into his arms before laying her on his royal bed.  Pinning her beneath him, he gave her a coy smile as his hands held her wrists above her head.

       “Be careful with whom you play games, Astrid. Some may not take your playfulness with the same affection that I always have.” He whispered, dragging his lips along her jaw, nipping the underside of her chin. Astrid could only gasp as his mouth left a trail of gentle kisses down the hollow of her throat. His hands released her wrists; she left her hands as he’d laid them, leaving her body vulnerable for his pleasure. He rose, smiling reassuringly at her look of sudden panic. The night had barely begun. He planned to make good use of the time he had.

       “Rise up, my sweet. Allow me to remove this final layer that separates us.” He commanded, gathering the hem of her chemise between his fists. Her body arched up, lifting off the bed as his hands slid the flimsy garment up. His hands lingered over her hips, and the curve of her waist. When her breasts spilled into view, he stopped. With a single firm jerk, he tore the chemise in half. Astrid whimpered; fear tinged the heat of her desire. His impish green eyes met hers as his palms covered her breasts, cupping the tear drop shaped globes as he gazed into her eyes. His thumbs brushed over her nipples, stroking in gentle circles as he captured her lips with his. She sighed, molding her body against his, wanting to feel his skin against hers. Just this mere contact wasn’t enough. He smiled, lifting his head up to look into her eyes.

       “There is no rush, my sweet, we have the night.” He murmured as he stroked his hand along her ribcage. When she lifted her eyes, they sparkled with unshed tears. While they may have this night, it didn’t take away from the fact that when dawn broke over Asgard, this gorgeous man would be as any dream she had in the night. He would still be lost, and her heart would break again.

       “We may have this night, but it will be little consolation to me in the morning.” She answered quietly, lifting a hand to smooth back an errant hair that had fallen into his face. He lifted his left hand to cover hers, turning to press his lips against her palm. He knew he couldn’t ease her pain, but he knew that he could make this night beyond all her fantasies. Lowering his head, he claimed her mouth with a deep, hungry kiss. Astrid clung to him, her body writhing against his as he plundered her mouth. Drawing away with a sigh, he laid his forehead against hers, nuzzling her gently before he spoke.

       “Morning comes all too soon, my sweet. Dwell not on my departure, but on the pleasure you’ll feel at my hands this night. Cling to those memories when I depart and you will not feel sorrow, but unparalleled joy.” 

       Astrid whimpered as his head descended, his lips following the natural curve of her neck to her collarbone. She tossed her head back, giving him unfettered access. His breath huffed softly against her skin with each teasing brush of his lips. The path he chose was one dictated by instinct. He knew no other path. He flicked his gaze through long black lashes, observing each expression that crossed Astrid’s face. He dropped gentle kisses between her breasts, nuzzling the rounded globes. He had known she’d be beautiful. Now, with her and all her beauty laid out on his bed, he had to question his sanity. How could he have kept her at arm’s length for as long as he had? Was it a shred of honor or his selfish ambition that had kept him from enjoying her? Maybe he would never know. In truth, it wasn’t important now. What was important was the woman who lay before him.

       On a wordless groan, he buried his face against her breasts. She drew a ragged breath, her fingers sliding through his dark hair as he teased one pebbled crest, drawing the needy flesh into his mouth to suckle. He growled as her hands drew into fists, tugging his hair before sliding down his neck and shoulders. Her body writhed under his as he turned his attention to her neglected nipple. As slowly and deliberately as he’d done before, he teased the stiff peak with his renowned silver tongue. Astrid moaned, her body arching in a bid for more, yet she knew he wouldn’t grant her plea so swiftly.

       He kissed the underside of her breasts, nuzzling them before continuing down her body. Astrid sighed contentedly as he kissed down her belly, tickling her navel with the tip of his nose before kissing down to her lower abdomen. He stopped just short of her mound, glancing up before pressing her thighs wider to fit between them.

       “May I taste you, Astrid?” He asked with a politeness that she’d always known him for, even though he was the God of Mischief. She nodded her ascent, watching as he rose up, gesturing for her to move up toward the head of the bed. Lying between her spread legs, he slipped his arms around her upper thighs, his hands resting gently on her hips. She watched as his fingertips threaded through the downy red and gold curls that covered her sex. When his fingertips grazed her outer labia, her hips bucked. His quick, reproving glance had her blushing at her impatience. It was more than enough for him to be so patient, how could he withstand her innocent impatience? Parting her nether lips, he found her folds glistening and swollen, ready for his tongue. With his eyes focused solely on hers, he lowered his head and licked into her, opening her damp folds with the gentle stroke of his tongue. She bucked in pleasure a second time, gasping as the flat of his tongue lapped gently at the throbbing bud of her clitoris.

       “Oh, Loki, yes; dear gods yes.” She moaned as one skimmed over the flat plane of her belly to capture a breast in her palm while her other hand sank into his dark hair. He growled against her slick folds, watching as she caressed and squeezed, her fingertips toying with her nipple as he continued to caress her with long strokes of his tongue. Just the sight of her touching herself in such a way sent a jolt of desire through him, making his already stiff cock even harder than before. He longed to give himself some relief, yet knew the task that was laid before him was a little more crucial than his selfish need to come.

       Astrid whimpered as his tongue worked her over; her body was bombarded with the coiling, taut pleasure that had her writhing in desperation. She didn’t know how much more of this exquisite pleasure her body could take. Her body quivered as his tongue moved in slow, swirling motions, drifting from her clitoris to lap gently at her swollen folds. When his eyes flicked up to meet hers, he held her gaze he lapped up the liquid desire that trickled down to coat her flesh.

       Body bowed, her hips rose to meet his hungry mouth as his tongue undulated over her folds before returning to swirl over the tender bud that crowned them. Panting softly, she gave a breathless moan as he teased her slit with his fingertips before pressing two fingers into her, groaning at how she sheathed him. “Your quim is so tight, my love.” He murmured against her flesh as his fingers curved upward, finding a secret spot within her. Capturing her clitoris between his lips, he drew the dewy nubbin into his mouth, suckling it hungrily as he readied her.

 Between his tongue’s gentle ellipses over her clitoris, the suckling of his mouth, and his fingers curving and flexing within her on each testing thrust, Astrid was amazed she hadn’t been driven out of her mind with need. Her body tightened like an overly-tuned string of a lyre, ready to snap at the ever growing tension. She couldn’t take any more of her body’s fight for a pleasure she couldn’t give a name to. She clawed at the coverlet, her body writhing and bucking as the tension that she’d been fighting released and crashed through her. A keening wail left her lips as the pleasure slammed into her in long flowing waves. His fingers kept moving, wringing every last bit of pleasure out of her until she collapsed back against the mountain of pillows. 

       Loki smiled as he withdrew, pressing a kiss over her extremely sensitive clit before rising to sit back on his heels. His tongue flicked out, lapping up the last of the offerings of her orgasm that clung to his lips. Closing his eyes, he swallowed down her essence, savoring the taste of her.

       “Loki...”

       His eyes opened, blinking slowly as he took a good, long look at the woman who lay before him. She looked incredible. Her porcelain skin was rosy pink with a post coital glow that highlighted her body to perfection. Their eyes met as his slick fingers curled around his throbbing shaft, stroking rhythmically as he looked down on her.  

       Astrid felt her breath catch as she watched his hand’s progress, her mouth going dry as he crooked a finger at her. She rolled onto her hands and knees; keeping her gaze on his, crawling the length of the bed to where he knelt. He gave a flick of his wrist. At first, it felt as if nothing had happened. When her hair slid across her bare back, she grinned, realizing that he’d unpinned the artfully arranged coils with just the mere motion of his hand.

       “Your tresses are akin to a blaze of fire; you should always wear your hair loose, Astrid. Such beauty shouldn’t be hidden.” The hand that had been leisurely stroking his cock reached out and captured her chin, tilting her head back so that their eyes could meet. Her head tilted, lashes fluttered as she turned her head. With the barest of movements, she captured his forefinger with her lips, sucking the long slender digit into the warmth of her mouth. A growl filtered from his throat as he watched her head slowly bob up and down as she suckled his finger with a hunger that sent a painful jolt of desire through him. Truth be told, he was hard enough that he could possibly sever the Bifrost in another two to three places. One fist curled in her thick tresses, forcing her head back and away from his finger. She pouted up at him, her brows furrowed as she observed him with petulant annoyance. He chuckled as he traced her full, rosy lips with the tip of his finger.

       “Why don’t you put that sweet mouth of yours to good use, darling girl? I do have something more to offer that you find infinitely more satisfying.” He purred as he brushed her lips with the weeping head of his cock. Astrid offered her mouth, eyes closed in anticipation of tasting him on her tongue. Smiling, he gave one gentle thrust, filling her mouth as much as she could take. The sight before him was glorious indeed; her wide blue eyes looked up to him, her small mouth overfilled with his cock.

       She made a soft cooing sound as she slowly slipped him from the warm, wet cavern of her mouth. Taking him in hand, Astrid mimicked to perfection the stroke of his hand as her tongue delicately traced the ridge of the crown, tasting him at her leisure.

       “Such a gifted woman you are, darling Astrid.” He praised her softly, his hand gathering a fistful of her flame colored tresses as she explored him. Her eyes lifted to meet his as her mouth enveloped him. He bit back a groan, watching as she slowly suckled him, drawing his throbbing cock as deep as she could take it, teasing it with her tongue before releasing him from her mouth. Her moans vibrated against him, making him crave his release with each little sound of pleasure she made.

       He panted as he watched her suckle and stroke him, knowing that he had to stop her before she made him come. With his hand still clenched in her hair, he drew her off his cock, earning a whimper of protest from her glistening and swollen lips.

       “But, Loki...I...”

       “No, my sweet; I won’t spill my seed in your mouth. Delectable and sweet as your mouth may be, I would rather fill you with it.” He purred as he released her hair, sliding his palm along her spine, following it until found the cleft that divided the rounded globes of her buttocks. His fingertips followed the division until he found her sex. His fingers traced her nether lips, finding her wetter than she had been when he’d tasted her.

       “I do believe you’re more than ready. Lay on your belly, my sweet.” He commanded, grabbing one of the overstuffed pillows at the head of his bed. Astrid watched in confusion as he knelt beside her on the bed. Hooking one arm around her waist, he lifted her enough to place the cushion beneath her hips. The pillow lifted her, baring her to perfection.

       With a gentle smile, he leaned down and kissed her shoulder, parting her legs a little wider with his knees. “Arch your back, little one. Offer yourself to me.” He commanded; his voice a gentle purr as his fingers brushed her weeping sex. Astrid moaned, her back arching, lifting her bottom higher, beckoning him to take her.

       With a smile, Loki rose and covered her, blanketing her with his body, the blunt head of his cock teasing her wet lips. He couldn’t hide his smile as he heard her panting, craving more than just a teasing caress. She shifted, moaning as he stroked her slick folds with the crown, tracing over her throbbing pearl. Her cry of frustration echoed off the ceiling of his bedchamber. “Loki! Please....”

       “Please what? Fill you with my cock? Shall I drive you mad with pleasure?”

       “Yes, yes, Loki, please! I beg you, please...” Her pleas for his mercy would not go unanswered tonight. And as her pleading turned to imploring whimpers, he gripped her hips and surged deep within her tight, welcoming body. A mournful wail met his ears, causing his brow to furrow in confusion. He withdrew fully from her and with astonishment, found his cock streaked with blood.

       Dread slammed into his gut as reality set in. How could he have been so careless? She was, after all, a maiden. A man, God or mortal, just didn’t rut into a maiden like he would an experienced lover; and even then, he should always proceed with care. He could have cursed himself for being ten kinds of a fool. How could he not have known that the woman who lay before him, a whimpering mass of femininity, was a virgin? Bowing his head, he castigated himself viciously for being so blind to that fact.

       Astrid turned, her tear stained eyes watched as Loki sat back on his heels, his head bowed, rigid cock stained with her maiden’s blood. It hadn’t mattered to her that it had hurt when he entered her; she knew that was a part of losing one’s maidenhood. The pain was a momentary discomfort; all that mattered was to have him with her this one night, to claim her as his.

       “Loki?” He looked up at her, his eyes meeting hers, and seeing with relief that she was no worse for wear. Her back arched, bowing toward the bed, her rounded derriere lifted even higher, beckoning him to rejoin her.

       “You have claimed me and I am yours my King.” She whispered softly as she lay her head down, resting her cheek against the soft bed. Moving slowly, he covered her again, this time he entered her with a tenderness that was admirable. He almost lost it; the sheath of her quim was tight, squeezing his cock to unbearable perfection. He bit back a groan, panting as he fought to maintain what control he had.

Astrid lifted her hips, thrusting back against him, wanting him to move. She could hear him hiss as she moved for him, her body undulating under his motionless frame. His hand sank deep into her hair, gripped at the roots and tugged her up, forcing her body to arch up while he surged deep within her.

“Hold still, you little minx.”

“No.” She gasped, a cry burst from her mouth as he pulled harder on her hair as he thrust again, his rhythm slowly building as he rocked into her.

“You do not want me to go rough on you this first time, my love. Your first taste of desire should be tender and sweet, not brutal and frantic. This night I will take you gently as a maid.” His voice hummed over her skin, her belly clenched at the implication of his words. He would never be brutal to her, would he?

He moved, fully withdrawing for her snug body. He wanted to watch as she came undone under him, to see that maidenly blush spill across her skin as he brought her again and again over the edge. Rolling her onto her back, he gripped into the sleek muscle of her thighs and tugged her up into the middle of the pillow, bringing her plump bottom flush against the cradle of his thighs, draping her legs over his lean hips. With a teasing glide, he stroked the head of his cock over her wet folds before sinking within her again. Her body bowed back, thrusting her breasts up as she accepted him.

Gripping her hips, Loki moved in slow, tentative strokes, watching her face as he moved. Her eyes remained fixed on his, dampening her lips with the tip of her pink tongue, offering up a moan of pleasure as he surged deep, hitting the spot secreted within her with the head of his cock. Her hands clasped over his, her nails digging in on each smooth thrust. She loved each slow stroke, relishing in his tenderness, even though his pace was driving her mad.

“Loki, please...”

His brow furrowed, offering her a puzzled look as he paused, only to feel her hips tilt and press up against him. Body quivering, he leaned forward, laying his brow against hers as he caught his breath.

“Yes, Astrid?”

“Please, I want...” She stammered as words morphed into a keening gasp as he rocked into her, each gentle thrust angled just so that it brushed against that sensitive point. Fingernails dug into his shoulders and back, sending exquisite thrills of pain through the mounting pleasure. Her moans and sighs, music to his ears, drifted toward the ceiling, echoing faintly to join the cacophony of sounds that was their love making.

“More... please...” Her legs twined around his waist, pulling him deep just as his hand fisted into her hair. He gave a gentle pull, tilting her head back to expose her throat as his hips moved faster. He pressed his face against her neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of her ivory throat, growling as he gave her more. His hand slipped betwixt them, the silky pad of his thumb rubbing quick ellipses over the sensitive nub that crowned her folds. “Come for me, sweet Astrid.”

With every sharp snap of his hips and every rapid pass his thumb made over her clitoris, she knew it would not be long until she obeyed his command. Her body drew taut as pleasure, hot and sweet, spilled up from her core to wash over her body. She cried his name, clutching to him as he continued to move. His growl of pleasure turned to a roar as he spilled his seed deep within her.

       “My beautiful love, my darling Astrid, you are truly mine and mine indeed. You belong to no other man, mortal or God.” His words sighed out between each breath. Reaching up, Astrid slid an arm around his neck, cupping the back of his head as she drew his head down, sighing as their lips touched; their breathing in sync with one another’s.

      “And you are mine, Loki Odinson.” She whispered, eyes closing with the exhaustion that pleasure brought. She felt his body go rigid against her before slipping away from the bed. Her eyelids fluttered open to find him standing a few feet away, his back to her. Before her eyes, his skin color changed from ivory pale to icy blue. Turning to face her, his eyes flew open, revealing blazing blood red eyes. Astrid gathered the golden coverlet around her, gasping as she took in the full magnitude of the man who stood before her.

       “Loki...?”

 

 


End file.
